


Gizmo Guys

by Fríálfurinn (DangerousCommieSubversive)



Series: The Role-Swap AU [4]
Category: LazyTown
Genre: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Cross-Generational Friendship, Found Families, Gen, Pixel has two dads already but that's not stopping him, Teaching, children adopting adults
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-08
Updated: 2017-01-08
Packaged: 2018-09-15 20:31:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9255692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DangerousCommieSubversive/pseuds/Fr%C3%AD%C3%A1lfurinn
Summary: Robbie Rivet is new in town! Well, new-ish—he’s been in town long enough to meet most of his neighbors, but not so long that he’s really gotten the hang of remembering their kids’ names. Except that one of the kids has just startedfollowing him aroundand he’s really not clear on why.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Why settle for two dads when you can have three, that’s what Pixel says.
> 
> This is set a couple of years before _Riveted._ ^_^
> 
> Based on [this post.](https://crystal-caper.tumblr.com/post/155443749863/what-is-pixel-had-like-a-crush-on-robbie-rivet)

Perry Packet and his husband had a son named Pixel, because they were the kind of men who would give that sort of name to a child. Or rather, Perry was, and Phil loved him enough to put up with it, so their cat was Parser and the license plate on the car said DAEMON and their son was Pixel (and sometimes they called him Epsilon, although that was more of a nickname).

Not that he was the only kid in Lazy Town with an unusual name. The Spendthrifts’ kid was _Stingy,_ which had absolutely horrified Robbie until he found out that it was an old family name, at which point he’d been less horrified and more confused. Nor did he really have a leg to stand on, it wasn’t as if Rivet was his real surname—but then, Robert Glanni Glæpur-Hütchen was sort of a mouthful by anyone’s standards, and he preferred to use a name that _didn’t_ associate him with notorious criminals.

Of course, he did still love his mother and grandfather very much. Even if he _had_ deliberately moved very far away from them.

Not the point.

What had he been thinking about?

Right. Yes. Pixel Packet. Pixel Packet had been following him around like a lost puppy for three days now, and Robbie wasn’t entirely sure what to do about it. Every time he turned around, Pixel was right there, looking up at him. Had he _done_ something? He was _polite_ to children, but he didn’t think he’d ever done anything that a child would find especially _interesting._

The first time, he’d said, “Hey there, Pixel.”

And Pixel had sort of shuffled his feet and said, “Hi, Mr. Rivet.”

“What’s up? Did one of your dads send you to get me?”

“No.”

“Oh…ok? Is something going on?”

At which point Pixel had hidden behind the nearest park bench, although he kept watching him through the slats.

Robbie wasn’t sure that he understood children.

* * *

 

On day four of having a small shadow, Robbie started handing him things. It wasn’t even really a conscious decision. It was just that he was fixing Ms. Ts’ai’s perpetually malfunctioning dishwasher and hoping desperately that it didn’t spray him with dirty water this time, and it was easier to say, “Here, hold this screwdriver for a second,” than to put the thing down.

Pixel said, “Ok, Mr. Rivet,” and took the screwdriver, and then after a moment followed up with, “Is it gonna explode?”

“God, I hope not.” Robbie pulled up the floor of the dishwasher and frowned down into its guts. “If it explodes it’ll flood the whole house and we’ll need a canoe to get out of here. I don’t think Ms. Ts’ai or…uh…”

“Trixie.”

“I don’t think either of them would like that very much.”

“Trixie likes canoes, though. She says it’s fun when they roll over because then you get to go swimming _and_ you can balance on the back.”

“When was Trixie in a canoe that rolled over?”

“She said she saw it in a movie.” Then, after a contemplative silence, “My pop says that if things explode then that means you’re doing something interesting.”

The innards of the dishwasher let out a distressing sputter, and Robbie frowned as he spotted the current problem—some kind of horrifying clog that he wasn’t especially excited to touch. “I mean, that might be true for your pop, but he does a very different thing than what I’m doing right now. If something explodes while I’m _fixing_ it that means I messed up pretty badly. Screwdriver, please.” It was hardly the _best_ tool for breaking up clogs, but it’d do the trick. “When I’m _making_ something, though, explosions can mean I’m going in the right direction. Could you get me some paper towels?”

Pixel grabbed a stepstool and scrambled up onto the counter. “What kind of stuff do you _make_ that explodes?”

“Oh, you know.” Robbie grinned as he worked to draw out the clog, which seemed to consist _mainly_ of bubblegum. “Robots.”

“You make _robots?_ ”

* * *

 

On day five, Pixel materialized next to Robbie’s elbow when he was working on Zachary Zabaglione’s horrible little econobox car and he didn’t even say hello, he just started with, “Keep this steady.”

Pixel nodded, taking hold of the housing with such a serious look on his face that it was like Robbie had asked him to defuse a bomb. “What are you doing, Mr. Rivet?”

“I’m replacing the thermostat.” Robbie tightened one bolt, then shifted around to work on the one across from it. “You can call me Robbie, if you like. I’m not really _Mister_ anything.”

“What does the thermostat do?”

“It tells you if the car engine is getting too hot.” Next bolt. “If the engine overheats then parts of it can crack or stop working, so you want to get a warning before it gets too bad. Especially if you do as much driving around as Mr. Zabaglione does. You can let go now, it should be stable.”

Pixel let go, but stayed standing where he was, peering into the engine. “Can you fix _anything?_ ”

Robbie actually had to think about it for a moment. “Nobody’s perfect, so theoretically there has to be _something_ in the world that I can’t repair, but I can’t think of what it’d be.”

_“Wow.”_

* * *

 

When Robbie saw Pixel home that evening, Phil sent him to go wash his hands for dinner and then said, quietly, “He’s not getting on your nerves, is he? I know he can be sort of…persistent. If he’s bothering you too much I can try to get him to leave you alone.”

“No, not at all.” Robbie shrugged a crick out of his back and pretended that he didn’t see the small face peering around the wall at the top of the stairs. “He’s been a great help, actually, and he’s very polite. It’s nice to have company while I’m working.”

The tension visibly went out of Phil’s shoulders. “That’s wonderful, I’m so glad. Perry and I really appreciate you keeping him entertained. He talks about you all the time, you know?”

“What, really? He barely talks to me at _all._ At least, not unless I talk to him first.”

“I think you’ve been the main topic of conversation at dinner for at least a week now.”

Robbie scratched the back of his head. “That’s impressive, I don’t think my own mother talks about me that much.”

“Well, Pixel’s a big talker, and he looks up to you.” Phil grinned. “Would you like to stay for dinner? Perry’s making lasagna, there’ll plenty to go around.”

Robbie held up his grease-covered hands. “I’d love to, but this is going to take more than hand soap to shift. Thank you for the offer, though.”

“Least we could do! Another time, then.”

“Uh, sure. Definitely.” Robbie lifted his hands awkwardly as Phil hugged him, partially out of vague confusion at being hugged and partially to avoid getting grease on Phil’s shirt. “I’ll probably see you tomorrow, honestly.”

* * *

 

On day six, a headful of red finger-coils appeared at the edge of Robbie’s vision and he said, “Hey, Pixel.”

Pixel stopped dead, blushing. “Um. Hi, Mr. Rivet.”

Robbie tried to stifle a yawn, sneezed violently instead, and nearly fell over. When he managed to right himself, he saw that Pixel had his hands clapped over his mouth in an attempt to keep from laughing, and he grinned. “’scuse me.”

“Gesundheit!”

“Thank you. Would you like to see what I’ve been working on?”

Pixel was sitting on the ground next to him in seconds. “Sure!”

Robbie picked the project from the ground with great care and held it out so Pixel could see. “Here, take a look. You can hold her, if you like.”

Pixel’s eyes went wide. “Is that a _bird?_ ”

“It’s a robot. Once I’m done with her she’ll be able to fly like a real bird, though. She’s got a remote control, but it’s really just to start her up and call her back to you, she should be able to respond to voice commands.”

“Oh, _wow._ ” Pixel took the little robotic starling from him with intensely focused care; in his hand it sparkled lavender and pink. “What do you still have to do? How did you make her? Does she need batteries?”

Robbie laughed. “She’s solar-powered, batteries would be too heavy. All I really need to do is get one last wire into place and close that panel on her stomach and she’ll be all set.” He thought about it for a moment, and then added, “If you like, I’ll show you how to make one sometime.”

Pixel gaped at him. _“Really?”_

“Really. I’ve got lots of spare parts, and I started making robots when I was about your age. Made a whole dog once. Here, hand her back to me, I’ll finish her up and we can let her do some flying.”

“You made a _dog?_ ” Pixel handed the bird back to him, still looking amazed. “Where is it? Can I see it?”

“Ah…” Robbie tried to suppress the twinge of regret in his stomach. “I had to leave it with my family when I moved.” It was easy to set the wire into place and solder it down, and of course the panel was just a question of a few screws. “Here, what do you think we should name her?”

The answer, immediately, was, “Gizmo!”

“All right, then. Gizmo it is.” Robbie pulled the remote out of his pocket and passed it over. “Hit the red button.”

One press of the button, and the little bird came to life with a mechanical chirp.

He smiled down at her. “Hello, Gizmo.”

She chirped again, with the little double-beep he’d programmed in for “name recognized and recorded.”

Pixel bounced so excitedly that he almost dropped the remote. “How do I make her fly?”

“Just tell her to. Call her by name.”

“Gizmo, fly!”

Gizmo took off from Robbie’s palm, spiraling up into the air in a gleam of metal, and Pixel looked so delighted that Robbie honestly wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry.

* * *

 

On day seven, Pixel was chasing Gizmo around the park while Robbie tried to figure out what had gone wrong with Bessie Busybody’s computer. Probably some entirely preventable virus. He’d have to talk to her again about opening email attachments from people she didn’t know.

There was a loud shout.

He looked up just in time to see Pixel trip and plow face-first into the ground, and while he didn’t _actually_ drop Bessie’s computer, he _did_ come very close. “Pixel!”

He got there as Pixel was sitting up—blood all over his nose, a long scrape on one knee, and clearly inches away from bursting into tears. Pixel sniffled. “I fell.”

“Yeah, I saw. That was a heck of a fall.” Robbie rummaged in one of his pouches for a first aid kit and then sat down on the ground next to him. “What happened?”

“I was running, and there was a rock, and I tripped, and—is Gizmo ok? I didn’t break her, did I?” Pixel looked around, suddenly horrified, lip trembling. “I landed on something, is she ok?”

“She’s fine. Hey, Gizmo! Come down here!” The mechanical bird flew down and landed on Robbie’s finger. “It looks like all you landed on was the remote, we can make another one of those no problem. Gizmo, perch.” Gizmo flew up and landed on top of his head, and Pixel giggled. Robbie grinned at him. “Here, tissues, you blow your nose and I’ll get your knee cleaned up.”

“Thank you.” Pixel blew his nose noisily, and then winced as Robbie started cleaning the scrape with an alcohol wipe. “Ow!”

“If it hurts that means you needed it, it’s getting rid of germs.” Robbie smoothed a bandage over the scrape. “There you go, you’re all set. Gizmo, fly!”

Gizmo took off from the top of Robbie’s head as Pixel scrambled to his feet. There was a moment when he was occupied with brushing himself off, and then he flung his arms around Robbie’s neck in a hug, said, “Thanks, Dad,” and was off after the bird again.

Robbie blinked. “Wait, what?”

* * *

 

He fell asleep in the park later that evening, as he occasionally did—getting any sleep was hard enough that he’d learned to take it when it presented itself. It wasn’t especially good for his back, but life was full of trade-offs, and sleep was wonderful. He almost loved sleep more than he loved making things.

He woke up to the sound of voices and squinted in confusion at the approaching figures. “Hi, Pixel?”

Pixel was towing the Spendthrifts’ son and Ms. Ts’ai’s daughter, a sunny smile on his face. “Hi, Robbie! Guys, this is my friend Robbie!”

Robbie covered his yawn and waved, still confused as he sat up. “Hi, Pixel’s friends. I’m sorry, I think I’ve forgotten both of your names.”

“Trixie,” said Ms. Ts’ai’s daughter, who was eyeing the pouch of tools on his hip with interest. “And that’s Stingy. Didn’t you fix my mom’s dishwasher the other day? Pixel says you can make things explode.”

“He also says you fix _cars._ ” Robbie had never seen a child wearing a bowtie. _Or_ such a haughty expression, for that matter. “ _I’m_ going to have a car soon, my father said he’d get me one for my birthday.”

“Aren’t you a little young to drive?”

Stingy looked offended. “I’m almost _eight._ ”

“Oh. Yes, of course, why didn’t I realize that?”

Trixie frowned. “Why were you sleeping on a bench?”

Robbie scratched the back of his head, laughing awkwardly. “Well, sometimes I fall asleep in funny places, and the park’s very nice. Here, Pixel, I made a new remote for Gizmo, she’s around here somewhere.”

“Thanks!” Pixel gave him another one of those quick, startling hugs. “I told Stingy and Trixie that you said you could teach me how to make robots and they wanted to see. Um. Is that ok?”

Robbie rubbed the last of the sleep out of his eyes, trying desperately to figure out why this child had decided to adopt him, and nodded. “Sure, why not. Give me a minute and I’ll go get some parts for us to work with.”

**Author's Note:**

> No Ziggy in this story, but that’s just because at this point he’s like. Four? He’s a little young to be wandering around unsupervised.
> 
> Share, enjoy, and please leave me a comment if you liked the story! ^_^ Thank you for reading!


End file.
